The Book Club
by allthingsdecent
Summary: House begins to worry that he's not man enough for Cuddy. Mostly flirty fluff, with a slightly nutritious center.


"Who wants another margarita?" Cuddy asked.

"Okay, twist my arm," Dina Morris said.

It was their monthly Thursday night book club and all "the girls"—7 strong—were curled up in on various pieces of Cuddy's furniture, sipping margaritas and discussing Joan Didion's _The Year of Magical Thinking_.

The discussion had gotten so animated that Cuddy hadn't even noticed that House had let himself in and was standing next to her chair.

"Spoiler alert," House said. "She ends up with Mr. Darcy."

Cuddy looked up at him.

"We're not reading Pride and Prejudice, House," she said.

House smirked. "Oh, I just assumed. . ."

He put his hands on Cuddy's shoulders and kissed her on the cheek.

"And how are all you lovely ladies doing tonight?" he said, addressing the room.

"Feelin' no pain," Helen Fowler said, raising her margarita in toast.

"Then I'll have what she's having," he whispered to Cuddy. An inside joke.

"You want one?" Helen said, not getting it.

"I'll pass," he said. "I only drink appletinis on poker nights with the boys."

"They're margaritas, House," Cuddy said, shaking her head.

"Oh. . . " He smiled, and backed up toward the bedroom.

"Well I know you ladies have lots to discuss about the text or the subtext or sexting or whatever it is that you guys talk about, but try not to keep my girl too much longer, okay? We have our own version of book club planned for later, involving acting out Lady Chatterley's Lover with me playing the role of Stable Boy."

"Sounds like fun," Dina said, raising her eyebrows.

"It'll be hard to top last week's book club selection—Where the Wild Things Are—but we'll do our best."

"House. . ." Cuddy warned.

He winked and limped off to the bedroom.

"He's so cute," Jane Rabinowitz said.

"You want him?" Cuddy said, but she couldn't keep from smiling.

####

After the book club members left, she wandered into the bedroom.

"Stable boy, huh?"

House was on the bed playing video games. He put his controls down.

"You want me to fasten your girth, ma'am?" he said. "Mount your saddle? Stroke your stifle?"

"I'm pretty sure the Lady Chatterley's lover was a game keeper," Cuddy said, kicking off her shoes and beginning to get undressed.

"Stable boy, game keeper, same dif," House said, watching her.

Cuddy took off her necklace and placed it on the nightstand.

"You were a big hit with the girls, by the way," she said.

"Of course. The Ladies Love Cool Greg," he said.

"Oh they do, huh?" she said. She went over to the bed and kissed him.

"Ahh, you taste of deep literary thoughts and tequila," he said. "Smart girls are such a turn-on." He pulled her toward him. She laughed as she fell forward onto the bed.

"House! Let me finish getting undressed first!"

"But the stable boy must loosen your corset and roughly have his way with you!" he said, unbuttoning her blouse and kissing her neck.

Just then, Cuddy's cellphone rang.

"Hold that thought," she said.

"Nooooo!" House groaned.

"I'll be right back."

Her phone was in the living room. She was gone for a few minutes and House got antsy, so he wandered after her.

"I wish we could, too," he heard her saying.

Then she added: "No, it's not that he would mind. It's just that I don't like rubbing his face in the things we can't do together."

There was a pause.

"Yeah, me too," Cuddy said. "Sorry I can't come. I miss you guys. Some other time maybe? Okay. Good night."

She hung up.

"What don't you want to rub my face in?" House said.

She jumped.

"Jesus, House, you scared me."

"What don't you want to rub my face in?" he repeated.

She sighed.

"It's no big deal. That was Dina. She's playing doubles this weekend and they need a fourth."

"What? And you think my feelings will be hurt if you play tennis without me? I'm well aware of the fact that only one person in this relationship is operating with two fully functional legs."

"For my purposes, your legs function just fine," she said, giving him a dirty smile and trying—in vain—to change the subject.

"You should play with them," he said stubbornly.

"I don't want to House," she said, standing up and putting her arms around his waist. "I prefer to spend my Saturday mornings with you and Rachel."

"I don't want your bones to atrophy just because you're dating a gimp."

"Trust me, between your level of activity in the bedroom and Rachel's everywhere else, there's no fear of that."

"But you love tennis," he said, staring pointedly at her. "Call her back. Tell her you'll play. I'll watch Rachel."

She knew that look. There was no point in arguing with him.

So she called Dina back.

"Guess what? I'm in," she said.

"Great!" Dina said. "10 am on Saturday at the club. Meet you on the courts."

#######

Saturday morning, Rachel was in her high chair and House was at the kitchen table, in a flannel robe, reading the funny pages of the Daily News.

"She's already had breakfast and I changed her diaper, so she should be fine until I get home. If she has to go, try to get her to use the potty."

Cuddy looked over at Rachel, "Remember, baby, you get a shiny new penny in your piggy bank every time you use the potty like a big girl."

"What year is this? 1934?" House interjected. "Can't you at least give the kid a dollar every time she poops in the pot?"

"Don't help, House," Cuddy said.

She picked up her car keys and focused on him.

"Alright, you have all the emergency numbers," she said.

"Rachel's pediatrician, poison control, my mother—plus I have my cell phone on me at all times. The neighbor's name is Patricia Collins and her number is on there, too. Obviously if there's a fire or a . . ."

"Just go already," House said.

She inhaled, looked at them both.

"Okay," she said.

"Bye bye, mama!" Rachel said.

"Bye," Cuddy said nervously. She kissed Rachel on the cheek, then kissed House and left.

"I thought she'd never leave," House joked.

Rachel giggled.

"So rug rat—wanna watch Brownbeard with me?"

"Mama says I can't," Rachel said.

House looked around the room in a theatrical sort of way.

"Do you see mama anywhere?"

"No, silly! She's doing tennis."

"Then we shall proceed with a program of plundering pirates!"

"Aaargh!" said Rachel, as House unfastened her from her chair.

####

When Cuddy got home, both Rachel and House were sound asleep on the couch, a giant box of Honey Nut Cheerio's open in front of them.

Cuddy made a note to herself to vacuum between the cushions of the couch later on.

House stirred when she entered.

"Hi," he said, rubbing his eyes. "How was tennis?"

"Good," she said.

"Serve still booming?"

"A little rusty. But not bad."

"Your partner any good?"

"Better than me," she said idly. "Everything okay here?"

"Ship shape," he said.

He hobbled over and gave her a kiss.

"Ooooh, sweaty," he said. "Me like."

"Yeah, I'm going to take a quick shower."

"Yes please," he said, following her.

She laughed.

What Cuddy neglected to mention to House was the fact that they had played _mixed_ doubles and that she had been partnered with a man, Scott Finn. Ever since Scott and his wife Tami had split, it had been somewhat awkward for Dina and her husband Tom, as the couples had a regular tennis date together. Cuddy was essentially subbing for the missing wife.

And as the Saturday tennis game became something more of a regular ritual, it suddenly felt less like a casual withholding of information and more like an intentional lie.

Cuddy knew that keeping secrets from House was not only ill-advised, but futile. He found out everything. _Always_. But she couldn't bring herself to tell him. At this point, it was too late—she couldn't just drop it casually into conversation: "Oh, by the way, my doubles partner is a strapping, divorced dude, who possibly has a crush on me." (Just a hunch, but a pretty strong one.)

So she remained vague about the games. If House sensed that she was being cagey, he probably assumed it had something to do with her reticence about playing in the first place.

All that changed, though, a few months after the tennis dates had begun.

There was a knock at Cuddy's door. Cuddy was in the bathroom, drying her hair.

"Can you get that?" she yelled at House.

He had been playing video games. He sighed, as though it was some sort of huge burden, got up, and opened the door.

It was Scott, wearing shorts and hiking boots, holding a bicycle helmet in his hand.

"Yes, we have heard the news and we don't care because she's a Jew and I'm an atheist," House said.

"What?" Scott said.

"You're not a Jehovah's Witness?" House asked.

"No, I'm Episcopalian," Scott said.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense. They usually wear ties and you're dressed more like a forest ranger. PETA? Because I love animals. I love _eating_ them."

"Is Lisa here?" Scott said, peering into the house.

House looked at him a bit more closely.

"Hear that noise that sounds like a hair drier in the background? It actually is a hair drier and it's currently drying Cuddy's hair."

"Oh, I. . ."

Curious as ever, Rachel came scrambling out of her room.

When she saw Scott in the doorway, she hid behind House's leg.

Scott beamed at her.

"Is this Rachel?" he said, gushingly.

Rachel poked her head out from behind House's leg and nodded.

"You're so big!" Scott said. "The last time I saw you was over a year ago. I bet you don't remember me, do you?"  
>Rachel looked up at House, confused.<p>

"Don't look at me, kid," House said. "I thought he was selling something."

"My wife and I used to come over for dinner sometimes," Scott explained. "This was back when Lisa was dating . . ." he looked down at the ground. "It was a while ago."

He turned his attention back to Rachel.

"I used to pick you up and swing you around and around and you _loved_ it."

Rachel smiled shyly, not necessarily at the memory, but because it sounded like a good time.

"But you're too heavy to swing around now," Scott said, teasing her. "You're so big, I bet I can't even pick you up."

Rachel emerged from behind House's leg and held up her arms to be lifted.

"Try!" she demanded.

Scott looked to House, who frowned and shrugged. He stepped aside to let Scott in. Scott rested his bike helmet against the door.

He leaned down to pick up Rachel, grunting and making a big show of how heavy she was.

Then, he started to swing her around, slowly at first then faster and faster until she was like a whirling toddler merry-go-round—with Rachel giggling in jubilation the whole time.

He put her down.

"Again!" Rachel said, clapping, and staggering a bit.

"Let me catch my breath," Scott said, feigning exhaustion.

Just then, Cuddy materialized from the bathroom.

"Who was at the d—?"

She looked up and saw Scott.

"Hi?" she said, puzzled.

"Hi," he said, smiling at her.

"What are you doing here?"  
>"I was just in the neighborhood, riding my bike and I thought I'd see if you wanted to go for a ride with me. But I didn't know you had company."<p>

"Scott, this is House, my boyfriend," Cuddy said firmly. "He's not so much company as he is a permanent fixture around here."

Disappointment briefly flickered across Scott's face, but he recovered quickly.

"Oh, well, it sure is beautiful out there. Maybe you guys all want to go for a ride with me?"

"What part of cripple don't you understand?" House said nastily.

Scott looked mortified. He hadn't noticed House's cane.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I. . ."

"We already have plans," Cuddy said, ushering Scott toward the door. "We're taking Rachel to the children's museum. Some other time?"

"Absolutely," Scott said, happy to be let off the hook. "So sorry," he mouthed to Cuddy.

She pat him reassuringly on the shoulder.

"Have a nice day, guys!" Scott said as he left. "And I'm going to have to insist that you stop growing so much Rachel!"

Once he was gone, Cuddy took a deep breath and turned to look at House. He was glaring at her, his arms folded.

"That was Scott," she said meekly.

"Yeah, kinda gathered that."

"He's my doubles partner," she confessed, not sure how much House knew.

"Yeah, got that, too."

"He and his wife used to come for dinner sometimes, back when I was dating Lucas."

"His wife?" House said skeptically—he'd seen the way Scott had looked at her.

"Well, ex wife," Cuddy admitted.

"That's just great," House said. "That's just perfect"

"I'm sorry," Cuddy said. "I should've said something."

"No, no, you handled it like a champ. Not telling me about Scott. Not telling Scott about me. Well-played, Cuddy. Really well played."

"It wasn't like that," Cuddy said. "We don't chat about our personal lives when we play. We just . . . play."

"I'm outta here," House said, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle and his leather jacket.

"House!" she said, grabbing his arm. "But the children's museum. We've been looking forward to this all week."

"The children's museum blows," he said, shaking himself loose.

And he took off.

######

He didn't come home the rest of the day and his cell phone kept going straight to voicemail (she left 7 messages before finally giving it up as a lost cause). Cuddy kept thinking she heard a motorcycle engine outside the door, but it was never him.

At about 10 pm, she went looking for him, first his apartment, then a few of his favorite haunts. She finally found him, hunched over the bar at a little dive called Clyde's.

By the looks of things, he'd been there for a while.

"Hi," she said, sliding into the barstool next to him.

"Hi," he said, not looking at her.

She ordered a club soda with lime.

"You're a hard man to track down," she said. "This is my fifth bar."

"Where's Rachel?" he asked.

"She's waiting in the car," Cuddy said.  
>"<em>Really?<em>"

Wow—he _was_ off his game.

"I just dropped her off with Julia."

"Oh," he said, tracing the top of his glass with his finger.

"House," Cuddy said. "I'm so sorry. I fucked up."

He shrugged.

"I should've told you about Scott right away. I just felt so uneasy about the whole tennis thing and I didn't want add insult to injury by telling you I had a male partner. And then by the time I realized that I was keeping a secret from you, I was too afraid to tell you. It was colossally stupid. And I apologize."

"I'm not mad at you," he said.

"Oh. . .really? Because you're sure doing a pretty good impression of a guy who's mad at his girlfriend."

There was a long silence.

"I'm all wrong for you," he finally muttered.

"_What_?"

"You shouldn't be with me. You should be with someone like Scott, someone you can go bike riding and hiking with."

"What am I, some kind of mountain woman?" Cuddy said. "You know I don't care about all that stuff."

House took a gulp of his drink.

"And what about Rachel?" he said. "I can barely pick her up. In a few years, I won't be able to pick her up at all."

"So what?"

"So. . .I'm broken, Cuddy. You deserve a man who is whole."

Cuddy could hardly believe her ears.

"How long have you felt this way? And why didn't you talk to me about it?"

"I guess I've felt this way for a while. But seeing Ranger Bill today really threw it into high relief."

She sighed.

"House, look at me."  
>He looked down at the bar.<p>

"_Look_ at me."

He turned to her, weary, but defiant.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

He swallowed hard.

"I guess not," he said.

She took his hands.

"So much it scares me sometimes," she said.

He gave a sad chuckle.

"You too?" he said.

"Yeah, so no more of this bullshit talk about leaving me, okay?"  
>"Okay," he said, nodding.<p>

She gave a devilish smile.

"And since Rachel is staying with Aunt Julia for the night, I thought we could resume our private book club."  
>House cocked his head.<p>

"What book?" he said, squinting at her.

"I dunno. . .I was thinking maybe the Kama Sutra?"

"Check please!" House yelled.


End file.
